


mornings

by dami_an



Series: simple expedient of... [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 02:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9858239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dami_an/pseuds/dami_an
Summary: And really, Kise's willing to be a morning person for the rest of his life if he gets to see Kasamatsu being pliant like this.





	

Kise always thought Kasamatsu Yukio would be a morning person.

It stood to reason, didn't it—the ridiculously well-planned training regime back at Kaijou High. The bizarre efficiency. The punctuality.  _He's gotta get up at the crack of freaking dawn_ , Kise thought, back at Kaijou High when he didn't know better, when Kasamatsu was just his captain and nothing more,  _he could rule the world before teatime if Akashicchi allowed him_.

The reality is considerably less glamorous.

"Loud," Kasamatsu slurs into Kise's shoulder, sleep thick in his voice.

Kise grins at the ceiling and runs his hand lightly, teasingly, down Kasamatsu's spine. He asks even though it's obvious what his senpai talked about, "Sorry?"

"Alarm clock," Kasamatsu says, burying his face further. His dark, short hair is tickling the underside of Kise's chin. There's a red mark on the side of his cheek from where he passed out on Kise's hand the night before. If Kise wasn't entirely certain Kasamatsu would kick him for it once he regained his bearings, Kise would say adorable. Kasamatsu huffs out, "Kill it. Smash it. Too loud."

"You won't feel so homicidal after a coffee, senpai," Kise murmurs.

"No," Kasamatsu whines—definitely  _whines_ , Kise grins wider at the sound of that coming from his supposedly fierce senpai.

"I'd love to let you sleep longer, senpai," Kise replies, shifting so they end up on their sides, him facing Kasamatsu to pepper some kisses on his face. Kasamatsu makes some protest sound but doesn't turn away from them. Nor does he open his eyes. And really, Kise's willing to be a morning person for the rest of his life if he gets to see Kasamatsu being pliant like this. "But I have to remind you that you have a meeting—"

"I know. Just—urgh."

"Alright, alright," Kise agrees. He turns off the alarm, pulls the thin blanket up to Kasamatsu's shoulder, and rubs an irregular pattern on a patch of skin just below Kasamatsu's ear until Kasamatsu's asleep again. Then Kise extricates himself and makes a pot of coffee (Kise doesn't drink much coffee unless it's Starbucks', but Kasamatsu isn't a human until his second mug), smoking a cigarette while he's at it.

Kasamatsu wakes up twenty-seven minutes later, all bleary and mumbling and having a few close calls of planting his face on the floor due to the blanket tangled around his legs on his way to the kitchen if it wasn't because of Kise, and Kise wants to capture this peaceful moment in a photo before it gets shattered by Kasamatsu's piercing roar once his brain is fully online, aided by three mugs of coffee, screaming,  _you fucking idiot, Kise! I'm fucking late already,_ and Kasamatsu storms to the bathroom.

It's worth it, nonetheless, for the way Kasamatsu's brows twitch in annoyance when Kise slips a toasted bread between Kasamatsu's lips, for the way Kasamatsu pauses in his frantic rush to allow Kise a goodbye kiss.

 

.

 

There're times where Kise hates his job. Rarely, because he likes traveling and being a pilot, an international one at that, provides him with a lot of opportunities of seeing new places across the borders. But the flashes of Kasamatsu's sleepy huffs, smiles, and kisses often give him a second thought.

Knowing Kasamatsu, though, he'd say it's pathetic for giving up his dream job for someone else, so Kise doesn't tell him this—the wish that he's sworn to bring it to his grave even if the months of being away from Kasamatsu is getting on his nerves.

The loneliness is diluted by occasional texts and calls. Kasamatsu doesn't like texting if his one-sentence replies are anything to go by. The longest texts Kise's ever received from him are usually murder threats for spamming his inbox—the length of the text measures the degree of Kasamatsu's fury. It helps Kise a lot.

Not that Kise minds much about his lack of texting. Plus, Kise's favorite is morning calls where he gets to listen to Kasamatsu mumble about not leaving the bed in his sleepy voice and if his sleep-addled brain is failing Kasamatsu, Kise gets a chance to aid him through his sleepy haze to go about his morning routine until coffee.

"C'mon, senpai, it's time to wake up," Kise says into the phone, eyes glancing over his shoulder at the clock on the bedside table. It's 2:10 AM in LA, which means it is 7:10 AM in Tokyo. He has only thirty minutes left to talk to Kasamatsu into getting out of the bed so he has enough time to get ready for work.

"Noo…"

Kise can imagine Kasamatsu all curled up under the blanket like a baby, the phone sandwiched between his ear and the pillow as his face is contorted up in a grimace and eyes clench shut.  _Stubborn_ , Kise smiles fondly at the imagination, fingers curling around the cigarette, tight. "Senpai, you need to get up now or you'll be late. You don't want to be late, do you?"

"Noo…"

"Then, get your ass out of the bed."

"Noo…"

"Make up your mind, senpai."

"Noo…" and it trails off to silence. Kise's almost convinced Kasamatsu's drifted off already if it wasn't because of Kasamatsu's sudden statement, "The bed's cold."

Kise knows what that really means even if he can't believe Kasamatsu's said it—Kasamatsu doesn't talk about his emotions much, too rational for that shit, he suspects, and now that it happened, Kise can't help but smile at the balcony floor so hard his face hurts and clears his throat.

"It's the blanket, I think, too thin," Kise says, "You need a new one."

"You buy."

"Demanding, aren't we?" Kise laughs around the cigarette between his lips. "Hayama-san asked me to accompany him to the flea market tomorrow. Maybe I'll find you a good blanket."

"'Hayama-san'?"

"Hayama Koutarou, the toothy guy from Rakuzan, remember? I'm his co-pilot," he offers, his mind going to the blonde who's playing games with their other colleagues in the living room. No doubt it'll take them another two hours before they retreat to sleep. The job has fucked with their biological clock worse than they'd have liked.

"Uh, Rakuzan? Toothy, who—no, urgh, thinking, difficult. Stupid mornin'," and then Kasamatsu yawns, "Good night, Kise."

"Wait, senpai! It's not 'good night', it's 'good morning'—hello, senpai? No, no, don't get back to sleep, wake up, senpai. Senpai? SENPAI—"

 

.

 

It isn't until a couple of months after the phone call, in the middle of a spring night, Kise finally returns from the job. Instead of going to his parents' home in Kanagawa, Kise decides to crash at Kasamatsu's place since he has the spare key, and he's never wanted anything so much as to take off his annoying uniform and fuck Kasamatsu's brains out.

As expected, he finds Kasamatsu asleep on the bed. The laptop is still running on the bed, illuminating Kasamatsu's peaceful face with its dimmed light. Some documents are scattered on the floor, some on the end of the bed. Upon a closer inspection, Kise can see heavy circles under Kasamatsu's eyes, and a patch of wetness on the sheet, indicating that either he didn't bother to dry his hair off or simply fell asleep while working on the documents.

Kise'd suspected from the way he'd sounded on the phone that he'd been busier than expected, but he didn't realize they'd run him this ragged.

He stares. For all it is mildly worrisome it's endearing too like he stumbled upon the rarest chance of finding his fierce senpai, the most capable and responsible captain he's seen, who can handle a team of crazy people, in his most vulnerable state. Kise has the brief urge to take a photo, and since he's no saint, he does just that.

Then he proceeds to put his suitcase down, closes the laptop and places on the study table, works his way through the dark room to clean it, not too much because he's exhausted but enough to spare himself from Kasamatsu's grumpy mood in the morning later. After changing his clothes, Kise paws through his suitcase for the new blanket he bought in LA; it's expensive but its thickness is suitable for any season, and it's soft against his skin, so Kise thinks it's a good investment. And the color matches Kasamatsu's eyes perfectly—the main reason why Kise chose it in the first place.

When Kise shifts him around, Kasamatsu stirs a little, eyelids fluttering, and Kise can't help himself. Kise kisses him firmly, working their mouths together, putting a hand on the back of his neck to steady him.

Kasamatsu hums into his mouth, a pleased, half-awake kind of noise. "Kise?" he asks sleepily the moment Kise pulls away to get at his throat.

"Hi," Kise mouths against his neck, feeling Kasamatsu wake up underneath him in languid increments. "I missed you, senpai."

"Uh huh," and there's no further word from Kasamatsu as he's urged Kise to press their lips together. Kasamatsu's hands are on his back now, pulling at his shirt, and he's moved his head for a better angle, and the noises he's making are fewer hums and more desperate moans.

They've been away from each other for months, far too long Kise almost forgets the taste of Kasamatsu's kisses, the harsh pulls of Kasamatsu's grip on his back, and now he's tasting them again, feeling them again; delicious, wonderful and just  _Kasamatsu_ , and he needs more and more and more—

Except that he can sense exhaustion slowing down Kasamatsu's movements, and he cares Kasamatsu too much to let Kasamatsu forsake his rest for him. So he pulls away with an ounce of reluctance and regret, and tells him, "Sleep, senpai."

"I haven't seen you in fucking months," Kasamatsu hisses, "Don't you dare stop, I will—"

Kise silences him with a kiss on the lips, and then on the forehead. "In the morning, I promise."

"No—"

"You're tired, senpai," Kise comments, already rolling over to the back of Kasamatsu, pressing him flushed against his chest. He picks up the new blanket, left forgotten at the foot of the bed, with his toes and throws it over them. Kasamatsu probably hasn't realized the difference, brain clouded by drowsiness.

"I'm fine, asshole," Kasamatsu says but it lacks venom, robbed by a yawn. "Well, fine. In the morning."

Kise hums in agreement. He cherishes the solid plane of Kasamatsu's body and his steady breathing against his palm as Kasamatsu's sleeping. Then, he joins him.

 

.

 

In the morning, Kise actually keeps his words by sliding two lubed fingers into Kasamatsu and fucking him slowly with them, enjoying the sounds he draws out. He crooks them slightly and Kasamatsu's whole body spasms, going tight.

"Good?" he asks, just to be sure.

Kasamatsu nods, unable to answer. Whether it's because of his brain fails to function due to sleep or pleasure, Kise doesn't know—doesn't care, either, since he can't afford to be distracted when he has Kasamatsu like this in his arms; beautiful and delicious. He presses a third finger in, adjusting until Kasamatsu keens again. He keeps fucking him like that until Kasamatsu's trashing at the feel of it.

"Kise, Kise, Kise," Kasamatsu says his name like a prayer, tilting his head up to give Kise more access on his throat, hands all over Kise's body, as if he doesn't get enough of him, and his breath hitches the moment Kise's fingers brush over that bundle of nerves.

Kise pulls his fingers free, all slow and careful, going for a slow making love, but Kasamatsu has a different idea. He growls, yanking Kise down for a bruising kiss, and hisses, "Fucking months, asshole. Just get on with it."

And really, he needs not to be told twice, and he's already ripping the condom open with his teeth and rolling it on. Kise smirks at the annoyed look on Kasamatsu's face that says he's considering kicking him if he doesn't move faster, and wipes the look off with a kiss and a single thrust.

Like Kasamatsu claimed, it's been fucking months, and Kasamatsu's so tight around him it almost hurts. Kise nuzzles into his neck, planting kisses there and down Kasamatsu's collarbone, up to his jaw, to his ear, in hopes of relaxing him. "I missed you, senpai. So much."

"Shut up, Kise."

He feels the momentary tensing of Kasamatsu's body, knows the effect his words have. Kise drives down harder into him, enjoying the way Kasamatsu's hands scrabble at his back, enjoying the desperate litany that's escaping Kasamatsu's lips.

His eyes are squeezed shut, but Kise can see the wetness in those lashes, how those words can bring him to tears when Kasamatsu's tried so hard to appear strong to everyone else. It's no secret to him that behind that strong façade, Kasamatsu's no different—he's as sensitive as everyone else, if not more, but good at hiding it.

"Please open your eyes, senpai," he says, driving faster into him. There're times like this that he feels most right in what he's doing, knowing how he can make Kasamatsu feel.

Kasamatsu shakes his head, ever so slightly, still lost in the haze of pleasure, and Kise pleads, "Please, senpai."

His fingers are bruising Kise as they dig into his back. The way Kasamatsu loses control in this and nothing else has Kise cherishing the fact that he can see him in these moments, so beautiful, so much softer without his scowl to push the world away.

"Ki—Kise," Kasamatsu tries to reprimand but it's not convincing in its attempt at menace. His eyes finally flutter open, revealing such a beautiful color; stormy blue, just like the new blanket that Kasamatsu's been clutching without realizing, and Kise holds his gaze, hips shifting, fucking him in a way that's too tender but never fails to make Kasamatsu lose his breath.

A little noise escapes Kasamatsu, signaling him that he's very close. Without preamble, Kise hooks one of Kasamatsu's legs over his shoulder and allows himself to get lost in the feeling of Kasamatsu around him, the smell of sex and sweat heavy in the air. Kasamatsu turns his head to the side, brings up the blanket to bite down on, to silence himself as Kise finally fucks him harder, jerking him off as he does.

Kasamatsu comes first, and it's the sight of him throwing his head back, mouth opening in a soundless howl that does Kise in. He puts his head down against Kasamatsu's shoulder, drinking that feeling of Kasamatsu clenching and unclenching around him, and tips over the edge just a second later.

"I missed you," he says again, afterward, kissing him, sweet and lingering. Kasamatsu glares at him when Kise releases him, but he doesn't protest, only groaning as Kise pulls out to clean them up before he's nudged around and draped more comfortably against Kise.

"Me too," Kasamatsu finally admits, after so long the previous statement could've almost been forgotten.

It brings Kise's head up out of pure surprise, but Kasamatsu's already snoring away, eyes closed. Kise blinks once, and then twice when confusion remains lingering in his mind and lets it slide in favor of catching some sleep.

Kasamatsu wakes up later than him—it's almost afternoon, and Kise's done preparing their lunch, then only Kasamatsu shows up in the kitchen with the new blanket wrapped around him, bleary-eyed and childish-like, asking for coffee.

It should be annoying but eh, Kise doesn't mind at all. It's weekend, anyway.

 

.

 

Relationships are difficult regardless of the type. Coupled with the constant demand of being away from each other and their unspoken fear of labeling their relationship, it makes everything even more difficult.

In truth, Kise doesn't have any problem when Kasamatsu decides to keep everything in the dark. The same-sex relationship remains frowned upon in their society, and Kasamatsu isn't very fond of public affection, anyway. So it's justified.

As for Kise, well, despite his boisterous and flamboyant personality, he doesn't kiss and tell.

But waking Kasamatsu up is his duty, and there are moments where he's so far away from Kasamatsu, even far from his phone to perform his duty. When this happens, Kise delegates although he knows well Kasamatsu isn't going to like it.

Kise's watching as Hayama browses through a selection of colorful fabrics when he receives a text from Kasamatsu.

 

_I'll end you. I'll fucking end you and no one will find your body, you got that? No fucking one – Kasamatsu_

 

Kise grins at the text and decides to call him instead. He gestures at Hayama and steps out of the shop. Kasamatsu answers in two rings with a murder threat, "You hear me, Kise? I'll fucking end you," in a lieu of greeting.

"Hello to you too, senpai," Kise replies, fighting down a ridiculous sort of smile.

"Don't 'hello' me like that," Kasamatsu snaps, "You—little twat, I swear I'm going to end you for this—you asked Moriyama to give me a wake-up call!"

"Oh, that," he says, his mind rewinding to the ridiculous favor he asked of his senpai before the flight. Kise's gotten his number from Momoi—having her number is a must, she's central of intelligence after all. No information escapes her, Moriyama's current number included.

"That's all you've gotta say?" Kasamatsu's voice raises to another octave, or perhaps a few octaves, so high that Kise almost can hear his veins snapping. "Did you know how embarrassing it was? Moriyama isn't going to live it down as long as he breathes."

An imagination of a sleepy Kasamatsu having a conversation with Moriyama floats over his mind. Kise laughs at that, "Senpai, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. It was just Moriyama-senpai."

"You know it wasn't just  _Moriyama_! We—I haven't contacted Moriyama since university and our first conversation was—fucking hell. Kise, I'm going to kick your ass so hard until you can't walk, then I'm going to kill you slowly until you beg for it and bury your body where no one can find it. Ever."

Kise hasn't realized that he's been missing him until an oddly warm feeling fills him after hearing a murder threat from Kasamatsu. It's just… so Kasamatsu. His grin grows fonder. "Feeling homicidal, aren't we? Have you had your coffee today?"

"Fuck you," Kasamatsu says, and then sighs, "It's already evening here."

"Have anything on your mind for your dinner later?" Kise asks.

"Nope. Too busy to give it a thought."

"Senpai," he whines, disapprovingly. Kise glances at his wristwatch—10.54 AM in Istanbul is 4.54 PM in Tokyo, it's time for clocking off. "Are you even planning to go home anytime sooner?"

"Yes—no, I don't know if I could. Too many things need to be done."

"Look, senpai, you're a great worker, you really are. But you're a human, too. You need some rest."

"Does it matter if I get home early anyway? There's no one at home."

Kise checks his sigh—one step forward, two steps back. Another difficulty in their unlabeled relationship. "How about this, senpai, you can stay another hour to finish whatever you can finish today. And then you go home, take a long bath and make yourself a simple meal. So, at nine, we can have a dinner-Skype together. Does it sound like a plan?"

At first, Kasamatsu's silent. And then he chuckles, "Who died and made you king?"

But then he doesn't disagree, so Kise calls it a victory. When Hayama emerges at his side after the call ended, the blonde asks with a teasing, toothy smile, "That special one?"

Kise doesn't answer. Instead, he shoots back, looking pointedly at the paper bag Hayama brought out of the shop, "For that special one?"

Hayama smirks back.

 

.

 

Like most couples (even if they never talk about it), they have stupid fights too. Kise has a tendency to leave wet towels on the floor, which drives Kasamatsu crazy, and Kasamatsu can't for the life of him buy the proper amount of food at the grocery store. Sometimes they fight about what to watch on TV or about Kasamatsu's tendency to stay late at the office, or worse, questioning the amount of time they get to spend together.

The last one is a sensitive topic, prone to erupting into big ones that even Kasamatsu's irritable half-awake grumblings become more annoying than cute. And this one is particularly bad, starts as an irritable complaint from Kasamatsu because Kise delegated his morning duty to Kuroko instead, mutates into a screaming match over the line.

"He's just Kurokocchi, not a stranger! We played against him in the Winter Cup," Kise screams, no longer caring if his voice draws his housemates' attention. He can scream as loud as he wants, for all he cares—America is a fucking free country.

"Yes, we played against him, and that's all to it!" Kasamatsu yells back. "I don't know  _him_."

"He's a friend!"

"He's  _your_  friend, not mine," Kasamatsu snaps back, "And I don't like hearing that my private life and quirks are announced all over the world."

"I didn't know we have to register your exclusive friendship club to be your friends," Kise sneers, in a tone that he'd regret later. Had he known better, he would've stopped talking right away, but rage has blinded him, so it's so easy for him to say a number of hurtful things to Kasamatsu, "Perhaps that's why you're acting so cold and strict to other people—to keep your friendship club exclusive. Fuck, maybe you enjoy being alone after all. Say, senpai, have you ever thought about going back to be a lone wolf again? Because frankly, I think that lonely life suits you just fucking fine!"

There's a pregnant pause, so eerily silent that Kise thinks Kasamatsu's hung up on him. Just before Kise can articulate a word, Kasamatsu says, "I see," before he clicks the line dead.

For a moment, Kise stares at his phone. Kasamatsu didn't yell at him—it wasn't even a murder threat, just a simple sentence but it was said in a hauntingly calm tone like there are unspoken words hanging in the air, and it cuts Kise deeper than anything else.

Is he being cruel for wishing that his words cut Kasamatsu just as deep, if not deeper?

 

.

 

For the next three and a half weeks, Kise lives a miserable life. After the fight, Kise is blessed with a new epiphany that his life has been revolving around Kasamatsu without realizing it. His texts, calls, even emails—most of them were directed to Kasamatsu. The number of texts to Kasamatsu has surpassed even to the Kiseki combined. He doesn't know who to talk to, or who to share with when he finds something interesting.

It's like, without Kasamatsu, his world is empty.

And the fact that he's now in Paris—the city of love, of all places, swarmed by couples, makes the ache in his chest more prominent than ever. Kise wonders if a brokenhearted man can be considered as insane so he gets a free pass to kill every happy couple he sees.

Frustrated, he resolves to alcohol to mend his broken heart. The pub is quiet and smells of alcohol and woods. The lights are dimmed, just perfect to hide his sorrow look and stay incognito while drinking himself stupid. He doesn't need to care about his alcohol level at the moment since his flight is pushed forward to the next two days.

Though, his wish to stay incognito is flushed into the drain when Hayama breezes through the door, sighing as he catches Kise's miserable look. But Hayama, bless him, doesn't berate him for it. Instead, he takes a seat next to him and orders the similar drink.

"A rough day?" Hayama tries.

"Weeks," Kise corrects and buries his face in his folded arms resting on the counter.

Hayama downs his drink without so much as tasting it first. Then he says, "That's horrible. Have you tried talking to anyone about it?"

"Do I have to?"

"From my awesome observation skill on your oh-not-so handsome face, yes, you do," Hayama points out, jokingly. "LDR isn't easy, you know."

Kise peers at Hayama's face from the corner of his eye. "LDR?"

"Yep, since we travel a lot and get separated from them for months. Hence, long distance relationship," Hayama explains with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"I see, so that's how you dubbed your relationship with Midorimacchi's senpai," Kise smirks, pulling himself straight. At Hayama's quizzical look, he continues, "Midorimacchi might or might not have shared some stories about his senpais, Miyaji-san particularly."

Hayama gives a laugh, "I hope it's all good stuff."

Kise sucks a skeptical breath between his teeth, just to mess with him. "I'm not sure. All I remember is Midorimacchi's complaint about how his senpai is feeling miserable with his love life."

"That's Miyaji-san for you," Hayama says, dragging the heel of his palm to rub at his forehead but the fond, toothy grin on his face tells considerably more.

"You're happy with him," Kise comments before he can stop himself.

It brings Hayama's gaze to meet his before he looks down at his drink, considering his words. "Happy? Well, Miyaji-san isn't an easy person to deal with, irritating even. Always talks harshly, and is strict with others, even more so towards himself. Sometimes I suspect him abusing his senpai card out of spite, and really, he's annoying as fuck."

Kise lets out a laugh, realizing that Miyaji bears quite uncanny similarities to Kasamatsu. "Maybe it's a senpai thing, or a habit they picked up from Team Strky since they both were on that team."

"Yeah, now you mentioned it," Hayama suddenly erupted like he's offended by the idea. "I bet it's a Strky thing—throwing commands around and threatening to hurt people when things don't go their way. I think they were dictators in their past lives. Too hot-headed!"

"True, true, true," Kise's quick to add more fuel, "Ever suffered Miyaji-san's punishment?"

"Are you kidding me, I developed an ananaphobia because of him!"

Kise blinks. "Anna—anana, what?"

"Ananaphobia—fear of pineapples," Hayama answers, proudly, with a toothy smile and all. As if he just answered a one-million dollar question correct.

It can't be helped—Kise laughs out loud at his goofy expression, so hard his stomach hurts and draws some attention from the customers in the pub. He almost loses his balance on the stool and could've toppled over if Hayama wasn't there to catch him.

When his laughter gradually dies away, Hayama asks, "Feel better, no?"

Then only Kise takes notices of his body—the lack of tension in his muscles, the disappearance of the sinking feeling in his gut that's been nestled there for days. Kise smiles gratefully, "Yeah, thanks."

"Good," Hayama mumbles, giving an encouraging slap on Kise's back. He gets up from the stool and places some notes on the counter for his drink. "I'd love to stay longer, but I've gotta give Miyaji-san a call after badmouthing him. Call me insane, but that guy can sense someone talking bad about him miles away."

"That's scary. I feel bad for you, Hayama-san." Then he asks, curious, "You're happy, though?"

"He's annoying," Hayama grins a mile wide, "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Hayama takes his leave after that, and Kise stays another hour although he's stopped ordering drinks after the third glass. The streets are devoid of people at night, and Kise's grateful for the privacy.

Paris is undoubtedly beautiful at night, perhaps even more so as it's blanketed with blackish heavens and glowed by the bright lights from the street lamps. Mellowed by the warm atmosphere created by love stories and couples, the city is spectacular, and Kise wants to share this memory with—wants to create a memory with—

A sob slips past his lips.

He just wants to go back to Kasamatsu's side.

 

.

 

No matter how much time he's invested on praying, life simply doesn't go his way. It's only two weeks later that Kise has the chance to go home, to tell Kasamatsu he's regretting everything he said, to tell him how much he missed him. He could've done it over the phone, but life has taught him nothing pretty comes out of it, if not worse.

Phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, dialing to find out Kasamatsu's current whereabouts, Kise raises his hand to hail a taxi. Instead of Kasamatsu's gruff voice, he's greeted with a different voice, "Kise?"

Kise slowly lowers his hand, confused, "Moriyama-senpai? Why're you answering Kasamatsu-senpai's phone?"

"He's in the emergency room. Been an accident, Kasamatsu's getting treated—"

Panic sinks deep, and horrible images flash across his mind. The horrifying thought of Kasamatsu laying in the bed, all pale and hooked up to the machines, prompts Kise to spring into action. He demands Moriyama to tell him the address and steals a taxi from a girl, saying 'emergency, hospital', not really caring about the irritated look on the girl's face.

The whole journey is nerve-wracking. Kise's stupid brain refuses to stop playing the worst case scenarios could happen to Kasamatsu. He stares at the phone in hopes of shoving those thoughts away. He wanted to shoot more questions, but Moriyama's presence was requested so he had to hang up.

As soon as the taxi driver drops him off in front of the lobby, Kise wastes no time to sprint inside. Fortunately, Moriyama's done paying at the counter and catches sight of him and smiles, "Hey, Kise."

Kise rushes over, hands clasping Moriyama's shoulders tightly, barely registering the confused look that's passing over Moriyama's face as his panic thoughts have advanced faster than his rational ones. Words pour out of his mouth, almost tripping over the letters, "Kasamatsu-senpai, where's he? Is he okay, how bad was it—is he, fuck, is he _dying_?"

"He's fucking fine and considering to kick you all the way to the sun," a familiar, gruff voice drifts from behind.

Surprise, Kise whirls around. And then he stares, long enough for the panic in his eyes shifting into stunned relief. "Senpai."

And Kasamatsu, still in one piece, without any scratch or broken bones or any evidence of getting into an accident, sighs, "I didn't know you were coming home."

"I didn't—" he breaks off his saying because the regret is thick in his chest. Kise swallows thickly, "What happened, senpai? Moriyama-senpai said there was an accident."

"Silly accident, really," Kasamatsu says, looking away. If Kise didn't know better, he'd have said he's pouting and blushing, and gotten a roundhouse kick for his trouble. Then Kasamatsu presents his bandaged right hand. "Four stitches."

"Six, actually," Moriyama chimes in. "Who knew he was so bad in the morning that he cut himself open. Luckily I was sleeping over at his place or he would've bled to death already."

"It takes more than a stupid injury to kill me, asshole," Kasamatsu growls.

Moriyama winks, "Your not-so-manly shriek could've fooled me."

"Lemon, dammit, it was the stupid lemon."

While they're bickering like old friends they are, Kise takes in the bandaged hand with concentrated attention, hands cradling it like he's going to hurt him if he isn't careful. He's deep in his thoughts before Kasamatsu's voice snaps him out of it, "Kise?"

He meets Kasamatsu's eyes, finding confusion and worry in them, and smiles to abate his worry, "It's nothing. I'm just glad you're fine, senpai."

The scowl returns to Kasamatsu's face, and Kise has the slightest feeling that Kasamatsu's going to kick him, or worse, to bring up the fight, the hurtful words he said to Kasamatsu so he can dump him right in front of Moriyama and these strangers.

But then, all Kasamatsu says is, "Yeah, me too. Let's go home."

A breath catches in Kise's throat. He stares at Kasamatsu before his eyes drop on the sweater Kasamatsu's wearing. It's his favorite sweater, the one Kise loves to wear until its color gets faded over time, and Kasamatsu's wearing it. The longer he stares, the more realization kicks in and it takes Kise everything not to act on instinct, not to pepper Kasamatsu with kisses.

He smiles so wide it hurts and his eyes sting, "Yeah, let's go home, senpai."

 

.

 

Moriyama stays another day, just to make fun of Kasamatsu, not forgetting to shoot off an email to Kobori that contains a picture of Kasamatsu getting high on painkillers, while Kise is off duty that week. And if Kise's touching Kasamatsu in more than friendly manners, well, Moriyama's good enough not to mention it.

 

 


End file.
